


What we become in the Dark

by Robin_P



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 04:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_P/pseuds/Robin_P
Summary: Dark!ficWhat was it like in the long years before Lloyd freed him?





	What we become in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I realize this has probably been done before, but this idea wouldn't leave me be.

He doesn't remember the War. Not truly. 

He remembers the fear, and the drive, and the old injured caretaker's stories. 

He's haunted by the memories.

The memories of blue skies fade quickly when you're trapped underground.

Most of the warriors are gone. Taken away by black magic. What remains? The injured, the young and the very old. 

Honour runs deep in his tribe. 

He remembers the first death. Ritual suicide, a warrior too shamed by his failure to provide, deciding to provide in the only way left.

The funeral feast that followed was not the first time he had tasted the flesh of his people, bestowing their strength and wisdom upon the tribe. 

It's the first time it brings nightmares.

He doesn't remember the war. He remembers death and blood and chaos. 

He remembers quiet years in the dark, a series of funerals, of the hungry hope that another of his kin would fall to despair.

He's not the first to snap. 

A mother smothers her children, and feasts before taking her own life. 

A husband is found, dead from an unseen wound, his wife a bulge under his skin.

Trust begins to fade.

Honour faded as those who held it before life were the first to die.

The casualties rise.

His friend, his brother in all but blood, traps him. There's a cooking pot, and a cage, and old herbs that don't quite work well enough.

He survived. His friend does not. He is full for many a month afterwards, keeping himself hidden from the others.

His brother never leaves, part of him forever, their strength joined. Always a familiar presence at his back. Their family forever united as it should be.

There's an old woman, oldest of his tribe. She sees something in him. She teaches him everything she knows, and guides him to plenty more, telling him he would be the one to carry their history to the outside.

She gifts him her name, and her wisdom, and far more than that.

She helps him trick and trap others. She teaches him her recipes. She gives him her strength of faith.

He loved her, as much as he dared.

Then she did the honourable thing, and died for him.

He never forgave her.

Their tribe has withered down to a few dozen members, and their all know what they have become in the dark.

There is no honour here.

In the end, his will to survive is stronger than theirs. He's tricky and smart and hasn't trusted anyone in a long long time.

He's alone.

He talks to the Bones. He displays them so he remembers.

There's a fresh breeze. A new smell. A young voice laughing outside his prison door.

He circles around in the dark, tasting the sweetness of young flesh on the air. How delightful! A new player to the game!

"Ahh!" The young human fell back.

"My sincerest apologies young man."


End file.
